


Werewolf.

by iwritestony



Series: Werewolf [1]
Category: The Avengers
Genre: M/M, Werewolf!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-23 18:22:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/929635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwritestony/pseuds/iwritestony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Restless. That’s the only way Tony can think to describe how he feels. And sure, he’s normally thought of as a mad genius with erratic behavior and bouts of tinkering, but never has he been the victim of shaking legs and caffeine eyes, no matter how many cups of coffee he’d consumed that hour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Werewolf

Restless. That’s the only way Tony can think to describe how he feels. And sure, he’s normally thought of as a mad genius with erratic behavior and bouts of tinkering, but never has he been the victim of shaking legs and caffeine eyes, no matter how many cups of coffee he’d consumed that hour.

 

So when Tony looks up from where his fingers have been tapping his pen against the conference table to everyone staring at him with disgruntled looks, he’s at a loss. He didn’t even realize he’d been doing it.

 

“What?”

 

The meeting is called early, but it’s not as if anyone’s terribly broken up about it. Most board members would prefer to be at home having dinner with their families than here discussing stock options for way too long.

 

Tony’s one of the last out of the room, despite being the main cause for the early dismissal. Pepper stays behind as well, slowly gathering her notes and files into her black briefcase. She stands when Tony does, watching him from the corner of her eye.

 

After collecting his things, Tony stands from his seat and leaves the room without another word. Pepper follows behind him, the click of her heels echoing through the empty halls as she trails behind him, noting his odd behavior. His shoulders are tense, his back slightly hunched as he jams his fingers at the delicate screen of his phone.

 

Pepper isn’t sure how much more abuse the little device can take when they finally enter the elevator and she speaks up. “Tony.”

 

“Huh?” Tony responds noncommittally as he hits the button for his office floor. Once the lift begins moving, Tony’s attention is back on his phone, his hands shaking slightly as he swipes vigorously at the screen.

 

“Tony,” Pepper repeats, calling for Tony’s attention as she places her hand on top of Tony’s own, stilling his fingers.

 

Finally, the genius looks over at the redhead standing before him with a concerned look on her face. For a moment Tony is reminded of late nights in bed, Pepper rolling over to run tension from his shoulders as she tried to get him to open up. Those days were long gone now, replaced with sleepless nights and endless intoxicated tinkering.

 

“I’m fine, Pep” Tony shrugs her hands away, “too much caffeine, I think.”

 

“Maybe you should go and get some rest?”

 

“Rest? I can’t even sit still. I need to…I feel like I should, I don’t know, go for a run, maybe?”

 

“A…run?” Pepper asks in disbelief. Tony Stark wasn’t exactly the workout type. “Like at the gym?”

 

The elevator door opens, and Tony is more than happy to step out of the small confined space and into his wide open office. The sun is going down just beyond the tops of the tallest buildings in the city, he can see it just outside his window. Tony doesn’t want to go to a gym, he wants to be outside, and it’s the strangest feeling.

 

“Something like that…”

 

Pepper gives Tony an unconvinced glance before shrugging it off. Tony hadn't had a vacation in months. He's allowed a small breakdown, especially if it means Tony's doing something productive and good for himself for a change. Going for a run would work to improve his health, rather than the alternative of binge drinking, the route he normally takes.

 

"Well," Pepper starts, pulling her tablet from her purse. "I'm going to look into rescheduling the meeting you just cut short. How about you just let me know if you need something?"

 

"Uh-huh," Tony nods, his mind elsewhere, racing even faster than usual.

 

Heading out of the door, the woman stops and turns back to Tony, "hey, whatever you decide to do, be careful."

 

This catches Tony's attention, his mind pausing for just a moment as he looks over to her.

 

"It's a full moon tonight, all sorts of crazies out there." She gives a teasing smile and half a wave before exiting the office. She has much more on her plate than taking care of Tony this time.

 

Absently, Tony acknowledges her departure but makes no sign of showing it. He'd call her later, send her flowers as an apology for his odd behavior. Right now, Tony needs to deal with this itch under his skin that he can't seem to scratch. His foot taps anxiously for a moment before he catches himself and stops.

 

"Alright," Tony sighs softly, turning to look out the window. With the sun setting beyond the building, Tony gets an idea. He's going to go for a run, and he knows just the place.

 

~

 

River Valley Nature Preserve is only about half an hour out of the city, but Tony makes a stop at the tower to get a change of clothes. In hindsight, it’s a bad idea, he’s wasting precious daylight, but something about jogging in the woods in a business suit makes Tony’s skin crawl, so he chooses sweats and an undershirt instead.

 

When he pulls into the lot, there are still a few cars. It’s an ideal time for fishing, for catching that last bit of sunlight at the shore of a lake. Tony doesn’t have time for any of it, he needs to run, his fingers tapping restlessly on the gear shift in his car.

 

As soon as the car is shut off, Tony pops his valuables in the glove box and slides out. Bringing nothing with him but his phone and his keys, Tony shuts the car door and immediately takes off onto the designated nature trail.

 

Tony can only focus on his breathing then. All thoughts of stocks and designs melt away in favor of the feel of the sun on his back, the wind through his hair. Idly, Tony wonders why he’s never done this before, and he vows to repeat this action at least once a week from now on. For someone who doesn’t spend much time working out, it takes Tony quite a while to start to feel the burn in his legs and chest, but even then he pushes on, that itch below the surface still there. And maybe it’s Tony’s fault. He lets his brain turn back on for even a split second, wonders when Pepper rescheduled the meeting to, and his foot catches an uprooted tree part. He doesn’t have the chance to catch himself as he’s plummeting face first into the dirt trail, his yelp of pain echoes through the trees scaring off some birds.

 

“Fuck!” Tony cries out, immediately bending in half to cradle his ankle to his chest. It throbs in a way Tony’s never felt before and he’s absolutely sure it’s at least sprained, if not totally broken.

He allows himself a few moments to sob silently. He doesn’t have much of a pain tolerance, and with no one around to hear him he can grieve for a moment. When the moment passes, Tony takes a breath and looks up to the sky, he doesn’t have time for this, it’s getting late and the sun is almost completely gone from the sky.

 

Trying to stand is probably the worst idea Tony’s had in a while, it results in him right back where he was, but this time with a sore bottom from collapsing right onto it. He groans and pulls his phone from his pocket, pulling up Pepper’s name.

Call Failed.

 

Tony frowns and tries again.

 

Call Failed.

 

“Dammit!” Tony shouts, nearly throwing the phone against a tree before thinking better of it and sliding it into his pocket. What good is a phone with no service, anyway?

 

With the sun gone, Tony can see even less than before. His phone is on its last life, not that it matters all that much, out in the woods he's not getting service anyway.

 

“Help!”

 

Tony groans softly, reaching down to his swollen ankle. Why the hell did he think this was a good idea? There are a hundred excellent gyms and workout centers in the city, but Tony just had to disconnect. He should have known better than to go jogging in a hiking trail so close to sunset.

 

Off in the distance, Tony hears a howl.

 

“Help!” He shouts again, there’s a ranger station somewhere nearby, he’s sure of it. If he had any idea where he was, he would at least attempt to get up and hobble toward it.

The howl cuts through the woods again, this time it sounds much closer and Tony’s heart is racing. There’s no way he’s going to be prey to any shitty woodland creatures, not tonight, not any night, he’s Tony fucking Stark.

 

“Please! Someone help!” Tony shouts again.

 

There’s a rustling in the bushes then, and Tony holds his breath trying to calm his racing heart.

 

“Hello?” He calls softly, “is there someone there?”

 

Immediately he regrets his decision to make any sound at all, as out of the bushes steps the largest wolf Tony had ever seen.

 

“Oh, shit…”

 

With wide eyes, Tony watches the animal take cautious steps toward him, the wolf’s lips raised, showing Tony his teeth. If he wasn’t so terrified he’d take a moment to notice the glowing blue eyes, but instead, he starts awkwardly shuffling backwards along the dirt of the trail. Tony’s eyes don’t leave the wolf, not even once.

 

There’s a snarling coming from the animal, one that suggests something incredibly unfriendly, the animal’s posture suggests that he’s ready to pounce. Tony doesn’t stick around long enough to find out what the wolf’s motives are as his hand finds a large rock, Tony picks it up and chucks it at the animal, hitting it square in the head.

 

Despite the pain rushing through him from his ankle, Tony picks himself up and grabs onto tree after tree as he half-hops as fast as he can. There’s a whimper from the animal behind him, but it doesn’t stay down for long.

 

Tony is mere yards away as the animal takes charge. The pain he'd felt in his ankle was nothing compared to what he feels now, as the teeth of a vicious wolf lock onto his already swollen ankle.

 

With a shout of pain, Tony goes down. Unable to catch himself, he knocks his head against a rock upon landing.

 

“Please, don’t…” Tony whispers in his last moments of consciousness. He can feel blood pouring from his forehead, and he can hear the sounds of four footsteps coming closer.

 

~

 

Bacon is all Tony can think about when he finally wakes up. And that’s probably thanks to the smell of freshly cooked bacon that’s filling the room. No, it’s not just filling the room, it’s completely taking over Tony’s entire sense of smell.

 

It’s the strangest thing, how Tony, without so much as opening his eyes, can tell how many strips, how long they’ve been cooked, and which particular brand it is. If he focuses hard enough, he can hear the sizzling sound from beyond the door, Tony’s mouth waters.

 

Wait a minute.

 

Tony’s eyes shoot open when he realizes this isn’t where he fell asleep, or lost consciousness  anyway. Whose room is this? Whose bed is this? Where the hell is he?

Blinking rapidly to clear the sleep from his eyes, he looks around the room, taking in the surroundings as quickly as he can.

 

It’s just a bedroom, small in size and generally normal. There’s a large bed, which Tony is laying on, the sheets soft and expensive. Across from it is a dresser with some random things scattered on the top. To the left is a window, the blinds shut, to allow the least amount of sunlight in, and to the right is an adjoining bathroom.

 

“Am I dead? Is this heaven?” Tony asks, his hands running over the sheets beneath him.

 

“This is my bedroom…” A voice says from outside the room, then the knob turns and the door opens slowly.

 

A blond, shirtless man stands in the doorway then, Tony drinking in the sight of his wide shoulders, his toned torso, the way his sweats hang low on his hips. There's a kind smile on his face, hair in a sort of disarray that has Tony wanting to run his fingers through to tame the wild nature of it.

 

Tony licks his lips as his eyes drag up the expanse of the man’s chest, “no, this is definitely heaven.”

 

The man lets out a bark of a laugh and shakes his head.

 

“I’m Steve Rogers, I’m a ranger in the preserve. You’re in my bedroom, which is in a cabin, in the middle of the woods.”

 

“So no one can hear me scream?” Tony asks, eyebrow raised.

 

Tony can hear the slight spike of Steve’s pulse, and maybe he has some sort of condition which makes his heartbeat loud enough to resonate through an otherwise silent room. In any case, Tony finds it strange, but he doesn’t say anything about it, or about the slight pink shade that takes over Steve’s cheeks.

 

“I found you on the hiking trail last night,” Steve says, “you know you shouldn’t be in the preserve after dark…”

 

As Steve goes on to list the threats of an untrained person in a wildlife preserve at night, Tony completely zones him out. Instead, the memories of the previous night hit him like a bag of bricks and he's tossing the sheets off of himself to examine his injuries.

 

“…And that’s when I found you, laying on the ground…”

 

Steve goes on, but Tony's pulling up his leg and unwrapping the bandage that covers it from the bottom of his foot all the way up to the middle of his calf holding gauze in place. The strangest part is - there's no pain.

 

Furiously, Tony begins unraveling the cloth until he can see the cloth beneath it. Tony's kind enough to catch the gauze before it hits Steve’s bed, but it's not the dried blood that makes Tony gasp as he examines his leg.

 

“Fast healer, huh?” Steve says softly, tilting his head to get a good look at Tony’s leg. His voice picture perfect nonchalance, but Tony can hear something tight just beneath the surface, it piques his suspicion.

 

“What’s burning?” Tony asks, looking up at Steve who sniffs the air curiously.

 

“Oh shit, the bacon!” He calls, making a mad dash from the room, happy to have an excuse to leave.

 

Once he's alone again, Tony looks back to the un-marred skin of his leg, running his fingers over it curiously. It's like nothing had ever happened, but if his memories of jaws piercing skin weren’t enough, he has bloodied up gauze to prove that there was once an injury there.

 

Moving his hand down lower, Tony finds his ankle is in the same shape as his calf, completely unharmed.

 

“How can this be?” Tony frowns and tosses the bandages into the trash as he stands, bouncing a little on his heels and feeling no pain. He lifts his foot up, and rotates it, still nothing.

 

“Okay, this is officially the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

 

~

 

When Tony finally makes his way out into the kitchen, stopping in the bathroom along the way to answer nature’s call, he finds the small table covered edge to edge with breakfast food. It’s more than enough to feed a small army, or a pack of wolves, and Tony thinks maybe Steve’s expecting more guests, but then his stomach growls and he thinks, yeah he could eat at least half of this.

 

Steve is standing at the stove, cooking up the last of the bacon, and what a brave soul he is frying without a shirt. Tony’s eyes rake over his back, down his broad shoulders, across his slim lower back, over the swell of his bottom.

 

A strange feeling comes over him, the urge to walk up, wrap his arms around the park ranger, burying his face between his shoulder blades. He wants to take in Steve’s scent and leave marks across his skin, claim him for his own. Tony shakes his head, sure he’s attractive, but that’s getting ahead of himself, even by Tony’s standards.

 

“You gonna just stand there, or you gonna pour some coffee?” Steve asks, not turning around.

 

“Oh,” Tony stutters before walking over toward the freshly brewed up. Folgers, Tony thinks as he takes in the smell, it’s his favorite. There are two large mugs already set out, and Tony pours the hot liquid into each. “How do you take yours?”

 

“Light and sweet,” Steve says with a small smirk, placing the last of the bacon strips onto a plate and shutting off the stove.

 

“Made quite a spread, huh?” Tony asks, mixing in cream and sugar, leaving his own coffee bitter and black.

 

“Yeah, I’ve got quite an appetite on mornings after,” Steve replies, but doesn’t elaborate, setting the plate on the small space near the edge of the table.

 

Tony follows, setting the mugs down and having a seat.

 

“So,” Steve starts as he scoops scrambled eggs and bacon onto his plate, motioning for Tony to help himself. “I saved your life, you slept in my bed, you’re wearing my pants, and you’re eating my breakfast. Do you think I deserve to know your name yet?” He asks, smiling around his forkful of food.

 

“Oh!” Tony’s eyes widen, he didn’t even realize he hadn’t introduced himself yet. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot. I’m Tony, Tony Stark, yes. That’s me.”

 

“Stark…as in…”

 

“Yeah, that’s me. Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Enterprises.” It's all so casual for him, as he sips at his coffee. The food is all very good, but it's the coffee that's keeping Tony awake at the moment.

 

“Just my luck then,” Steve laughs and shakes his head. “Glad I found you alive…”

 

There’s something nervous about his laugh, something that makes Tony suspicious and concerned, but he doesn’t bring it up. He trusts this man, which is strange enough, Tony doesn’t trust anyone. But Steve saved his life, took him in, gave him food, what's not to trust?

 

The rest of the meal was spent in comfortable silence, Steve looking over a newspaper, Tony hadn’t seen a newspaper in years.

 

“Hmm,” Steve hums, setting his coffee mug down as he flips a page to continue reading.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Apparently there was a murder last night,” Steve says quickly turning the page to the comics.

 

“You a detective in your spare time?”

 

Steve grins and shakes his head, “nah, it’s just interesting.”

 

“People dying?”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” the blond sighs softly and sets the paper down. “How was your meal?” He asks, eyebrows raised.

 

“Eggs were a little dry,” Tony says, watching Steve’s smile fade, “I’m just kidding, it was all very delicious. I can’t believe we finished all of it.”

 

“You’ve got a big appetite. Help me clean up?”

 

Tony nods as he gets up, grabbing some dishes to bring to the sink. And if Pepper could see him now, she’d probably faint. Tony Stark didn’t do dishes, let alone someone else’s dishes. But he owed Steve, so he could bite the bullet this time.

 

As Steve scrubs at a dish, warm water washing the suds away, Tony stands to his right to dry. It's not the greatest assembly line, but it gets the job done.

 

“So, hey,” Steve starts, casually. He passes Tony the dish he was just washing, picking up a mug. “How much of last night do you actually remember?”

 

There's a rapid thumping sound coming from the center of Steve’s chest, and Tony doesn’t particularly like the sound of it. It's quite a suspicious sound, like Steve knows something Tony doesn’t, like he's nervous as all hell.

 

“Well,” Tony says, setting the dry dish off to the side in the pile he’d created. He recounts the events leading up to the evening, the restless feeling, the business meeting cut short, his decision to go for a run. Then he cuts to the chase, “there must’ve been an uprooted tree of some sort, 'cause I tripped, sprained my ankle though it felt bad enough to be broken. Standing hurt too much, but my phone had no reception so that’s when I started calling for help. Probably wasn’t a very good idea, since that’s about the time the wolf showed up, it must’ve heard me yelling.”

 

Steve is no longer scrubbing, simply letting the water stream over his hands as he listens. Tony watches the water as he continues to speak.

 

“I threw something at it, a rock maybe? Wasn’t too happy about that, so I pulled myself up despite the pain and tried to run. I didn’t get too far though, and it got me. Right here,” Tony lifts his leg, pointing to the part of his calf where just twelve hours prior there was a wolf

bite.

 

“And you’re sure it got you?” Steve asks, “you’re sure the wolf bit you?”

 

“It’s not exactly something you forget, you know? It hurt quite a bit. Anyway, I fell over, must’ve knocked my head on a rock or something because I got knocked right out after that. I guess that’s about the time you came along?”

 

“Yeah, more or less,” Steve shuts off the water then, and takes a deep breath, his eyes shut like he's trying to calm himself down. Tony wonders what he might’ve said wrong.

 

“Okay, look,” Tony hands the towel over to Steve to dry his hands. “I need you to stop doing that weird thing where you make a vague remark. You’re in no way assuring me that you’re not some crazy guy who lives alone in the woods with his pet wolves preying on innocent joggers.”

 

“Crazy guy who—Tony, really? I’m a park ranger, it’s more convenient for me to live in the woods, first of all. Secondly, owning a wolf is illegal in this state, and finally why would I save your life if I just wanted to kill you?”

 

“I never said you wanted to kill me,” Tony says, eyebrow raised.

 

“Okay no, stop. We’re getting away from the point here, and we need to talk. So maybe we should take this into the living room. I can finish the dishes later, you should be sitting when you hear this.”

 

Tony definitely doesn’t like the sound of that, nothing good ever came from the phrase ‘we need to talk’. It's what Obie had said before telling him his parents died, it was what Obi had said before he tried to kill Tony and take over his company. It was what Pepper had said just before she broke his heart. And even though Steve doesn’t know him well enough to hurt him on those levels, ‘we need to talk’ is never a good thing to hear.

 

So Tony follows the man to the small living room, and has a seat on the couch beside him, and waits for Steve to start talking. But Steve doesn’t, not at first, first Steve reaches over and presses his hand to the top of Tony’s as if he could relieve some of the tension in Tony’s body. And the strangest thing is, it works.

 

“Just get on with it?” Tony asks, pulling his hand away.

 

“You’re…it’s going to sound absolutely crazy,” Steve prefaces it. “But I need you to keep an open mind. I need you to let me explain, and just don’t freak out okay?”

 

Tony nods, bracing himself for the worst. This is it, Steve is a murderer, he’s got bodies in a freezer somewhere and Tony’s next.

 

“I’m a werewolf…”

 

And…that isn’t at all what Tony was expecting to hear.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Yes, you heard me. Last night, that wolf that attacked you, that was me.”

 

Steve’s heart-beat is steady, and his mouth is set in a straight line, and his eyes are narrowed, determined to make Tony believe. There's such a long pause, Steve's not sure Tony would ever reply, and when he does, it's with a laugh.

 

“Don’t,” Steve frowns, his shoulders tensing immediately. “Don’t laugh like this is some joke, I’m not playing around. I’m a werewolf, and I bit you last night. Do you realize what that means?”

 

“Right, okay, except” Tony takes a few calming breaths, “I can’t be turned into a werewolf because I’m already a vampire!” Tony starts laughing again.

 

“Vampires do not exist,” Steve speaks between gritted teeth. “Stop laughing, Tony.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Tony holds his sides, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but how can you honestly expect me to believe that?”

 

“Because the evidence is right there!” Steve says, pointing to Tony’s leg. “Last night, you said you sprained your ankle, possibly even broke it? You were bitten by a wolf, you hit your head on a rock! Do you have any of those injuries today?”

 

Tony’s cheerful mood diminishes quickly, narrowing his eyes. Steve has a point, but not one good enough for Tony to believe in mythological creatures. “Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was. Maybe it was just twisted, or bruised and now I’m fine.”

 

“And the bite?” Steve looks on expectantly.

 

“I don’t know! But I’m not going to sit here and listen to you talk this nonsense about werewolves! You’re insane if you expect me to believe that I got bit by a wolf, oh wait I’m sorry,” and by now Tony is standing, “I got bit by you and now I’m a werewolf. I’m not Lon

Chenny, nor am I Michael J. Fox.”

 

“Where are you going!?” Steve asks as Tony storms out of the living room back toward Steve’s bedroom. He begins collecting his things, his clothes, his cellphone which is mostly dead by now.

 

“I’m leaving,” Tony says as he returns to the living room, all of his clothing in hand. “I want to thank you for your hospitality, your services will not go unrewarded. I’ll mail you back your pants.”

 

“You can’t leave, Tony. I haven’t even started explaining any of it,” Steve exclaims, and now he’s standing.

 

“No thanks, I’m not accepting any Stockholm Syndrome today,” Tony says, pushing past Steve. The brush of their shoulders sends a wave of relief over his entire frame but Tony doesn’t stop at the door.

 

“Tony, you don’t understand!” Steve follows him out, but doesn’t go farther than his doorstep.

  
“I understand perfectly!” Tony says, not looking back as he walks barefoot down the trail. There are signs; he’ll find his way back to his car. “You’re totally crazy!” And that’s the last thing Tony says to the blond park ranger who saved his life.


	2. Werewolf

Despite the thirty minute distance between the tower and the preserve, Tony makes it home in ten minutes, even in the midst of rush hour traffic. He's lucky to not get pulled over by the cops, because his story's not likely to make much sense to anyone who didn’t experience it first-hand. Which also means that when he gets home to find Pepper waiting for him in the lobby of the tower, he's going to have a very difficult time explaining things to her. And boy does she look like she needs an explanation.

Pepper clutches her planner tight to her chest, Tony can see the knuckles going white. Her jaw is set in that way it only gets when Tony's done something really wrong, like missed the meeting she'd rescheduled for this morning after Tony'd ruined it the previous evening.

“Do you know how many times I called you?” Pepper asks tightly, trailing behind Tony as he bypasses her and heads straight for the elevator.

“Quite a few, knowing you,” Tony says, jamming the button roughly.

“What is that smell?” Pepper's face scrunches up a little as she steps into the lift.

“Well Pepper, if you’d given me any time at all to tell you about the night I just had, I'd be able to explain that I spent most of the it unconscious on the ground of the nature preserve.”

The doors open, and Tony doesn’t wait for Pepper’s response as he walks into his penthouse, shedding clothes on the way.

“Tony…what happened?” Pepper asks, stopping just shy of the elevator entrance way.

“Why, so you can pretend to give a shit?” Tony quips, throwing his shirt to the floor and turning back to Pepper.

“Out of line,” she warns, watching him carefully.

“Out of line?” Tony’s repeats, raising his voice considerably. There's a soft voice in the back of his head telling him that maybe he's being a little irrational, maybe he is out of line, but he can’t hear it over the sudden blind rage taking over every other part of him.

“Tell me, Pepper” Tony says, keeping his distance as he paces. “You came over to yell at me, didn’t you? All you care about, is that I missed your meeting and made you look bad. I recall a time when you actually gave a shit about me. What happened to that Pepper?” He challenges her, tilting his head, and he knows right then that he went too far.

Pepper tenses, her look of concern icing over into the cold, professional glare she used to turn stomachs in a board meeting.

“I’m going to go now,” She says, taking a breath to calm herself before she'd lose that cool composure she's worked so long to perfect. “And when you decide you want to have a civilized conversation that doesn’t involve slinging unnecessary, and downright hurtful insults? Go ahead and give me a call.”

With that, she's in the elevator, jamming the button back down to the lobby. She’d think of something to tell the board, she's clever like that.

Tony watches her go with a dumbfounded expression. He knows he was wrong, but he can’t help feeling angry still. His fists clench at his sides as he starts toward his shower. He needs to get cleaned up, have these clothes cleaned and shipped back to that psycho’s house in the woods, and get back to life as usual.

After his shower, Tony calls Pepper. On the tenth call she finally answers, accepts  
Tony’s apology and his request for a week off work to recover from whatever it is he needs to deal with.

~

The week passes with an unusual amount of normality as far as Tony’s life is concerned. It’s almost a little alarming that nothing strange happens despite the recent experiences. 

However, as far as Tony's aware, the whole situation's over with, water under the bridge and it's settled as soon as he's shipped off Steve’s clothing.

Good riddance.

On Monday morning, Tony wakes up, shaves his face, takes a shower and grabs his first cup of coffee before heading out to the office. He’s not in a particularly good mood, considering the fact that it’s nine in the morning, but he’s feeling better than he has in a while and that’s something.

When he arrives at work he’s hit with a familiar scent, and that’s strange. He takes a couple of sniffs before he sees a guard with a confused expression staring at him. He clears his throat, nods a greeting and heads toward the elevator that would take him to his office.

LeAnne, Tony’s secretary, greets Tony the moment he steps out of the lift, handing him his second cup of coffee for the day and a folder stacked full of missed messages and important documents from Tony's absence.

“While you were out you had a visitor," she mentions as Tony takes the items from her. “Said his name was Steve Rogers and it was very important that he spoke to you right away. There’s a few messages from him as well,” she nods to the folder, “but I told him you were out sick.”

“Thanks, LeAnne,” Tony gives her a smile, and shuts his office door behind him.

Half the cup of coffee is gone before Tony even sits down, and he really should give that woman a raise, because wow that's a good cup of coffee. But he has avoided this enough, he has to dig into that folder.

He tosses most of the papers to the side, deciding he’ll look into them more thoroughly later. Truth be told, he’s mostly just looking for the messages the man from the woods had sent him.

“I know you think I’m insane, but we really need to talk. Please give me some time to explain.” Tony reads out loud when he finally reaches a folded up piece of notebook paper.  
Tony scoffs and tosses it into the bin, but there’s another page just beneath it, the same half-hearted folding as the first.

“I can help you, please call me.” There’s a phone number scribbled on the bottom of the paper and Tony shakes his head as he tosses that paper into the trash as well.

“Psycho” he mutters to himself, ignoring the strange fluttering in his chest, before flipping to a few of the more important documents.

Tony spends almost two hours flipping through papers and notes, phone calls and messages, carefully not thinking about Steve or his stupid phone number, and he loses track of time. Time is such a silly thing, it never really meant much to Tony anyway, but his stomach growls and maybe he should have had more than three cups of coffee for breakfast.

Then it hits him, the most glorious smell in the world. It’s the scent of pizza, no, not just any pizza. It’s the pizza from Tony’s favorite hole-in-the-wall shop, Little Angela’s. The scent is so strong, and it drags Tony right out of his seat, stomach grumbling in desire as he heads toward the door, fully expecting to see boxes of pizza when he opens it.

LeAnne looks up from where she's been typing away at her laptop and gives Tony a curious smile.

“Did you need something, Mr. Stark?” She tilts her head and Tony frowns.

“Where’s the pizza?” He steps further from the door and looks around, sniffing the air, but the room is empty, void of anyone or anything that would smell as good as what Tony smells.

“I have some goldfish…?” She offers up the bag she’d been munching at every so often.

Tony shakes his head, “no, that’s alright, thanks. Wait, you don’t smell that?”

Self-consciously the woman sniffs herself and shakes her head, “no.”

“There’s…” Tony growls softly, and heads toward the stairway, pushing open the door and leaving without another word.

“I gotta get a new job,” the woman shakes her head. “I knew he was crazy, but man did I underestimate it.”

Tony runs down the stairs, sniffing, and he’s glad no one else is around because he would look absolutely crazy to any passerby. He doesn’t stop, the smell getting stronger the farther he goes. Finally, once he reaches the fifth floor - exactly five floors below his own office - he opens the door to find an office party. Pizza from his favorite place, Little Angela’s, is stacked seven boxes high.

He's instantly greeted by the smiling office workers sitting around enjoying their meals, and they gladly offer him some. After all, Tony is the boss, and at the end of the day, he's the one supplying this pizza for everyone. He leaves with four slices on a plate, which he finishes before he even reaches his office door.

When he finally returns to his desk, LeAnne pages over the phone that he’d missed a phone call from Steve Rogers again while he was on lunch, and that he'd requested Tony call him back as soon as possible. He doesn’t, of course, and sits back in his chair, reveling in the fullness of his stomach, Little Angela’s never disappoints.

Still, he thinks, it was rather strange how sharp the smell of the pizza had been from five floors away. He reaches into his trash bin and pulls the paper previously tossed away, unravels it and adds Steve’s number to his contacts.

Just in case.

~

It’s Friday night, or Saturday morning, depending which way you look at the glass, and Tony’s wide awake, but not of his own accord. He’s lying in bed, his penthouse on the eighth floor of Stark Tower, but somehow, despite his distance from the ground, and the windows that are shut, he can hear an argument breaking out between a couple on the street.

Groaning, Tony rolls over and pulls his pillow over his head, smashing it against his ears to try and drown out the sound. It doesn’t work.

The most frustrating thing of all is Tony'd thought this was over with. After the pizza incident – nearly two weeks ago - Tony hadn’t shown any strange symptoms at all. But now he's eavesdropping on a conversation eight stories below him, and he doesn’t understand how that's even possible.

From what it sounds like, the woman below is upset because, yet again, her boyfriend ditched her in the middle of a crowded nightclub in favor of hanging out with his friends, and buying drinks for other women. And don’t think she hasn’t noticed the way he grinds on some of those ladies on the dance floor. It’s disgusting.

The man has really no defense, he just keeps calling the woman terms of endearment. Baby, sweetheart, babe, darling, please just listen to me, please, those other women don’t mean anything to me. Clearly drunk. Rookie.

Tony growls and it takes absolutely everything in his power to not get out of bed and chuck something really heavy down the eight floors toward the two people. He grips another pillow to his head, practically smothering himself in the process. He hears fabric rip in his frustration, a tingling sensation at the tips of his fingers.

The conversation goes on for another ten minutes before Tony lets out a loud yell of frustration, “oh shut up already!” The windows of the tower shake with the power of his voice, and even Tony finds himself a little shaken by the sound.

There’s a sudden quiet in the street below, and the only sound Tony can hear coming from the couple, are their feet carrying them away from whatever it was that just shook Stark Tower.

Chalking it up to mere coincidence, Tony settles back down into his bed, relaxing a little as he falls into a content slumber.

In the morning when Tony wakes up, he ignores the claw shaped rips in his pillow case and goes on about his day as usual.

~

Tony returns to work on Monday after a particularly non-eventful weekend. Honesty, Tony had cancelled most of his plans when he woke up on Saturday morning feeling…off.

It wasn’t a sickness, per se but his body had ached in a way he couldn’t explain. He didn’t want to be touched, but he wanted to be held. He couldn’t sit still, anxious and restless. His head had been heavy and he felt lethargic. Obviously those two people who had kept him up half the night were to blame, so he'd taken it easy on Saturday and postponed his plans for the next day.

Unfortunately, on Sunday he'd woken up feeling exactly the same, and by Monday he isn’t any better. It’s something he can’t seem to shake no matter how many jugs of orange juice he consumes. He vows to visit the doctor if it keeps up and heads out to the office.

Tony’s hoping for an easy day. He has no appointments or meetings that he knows of. He’s got some emails to reply to, but he’s hoping it’ll be the sum of his day.

What he isn’t expecting when he steps into the lobby of Stark Industries, shrugging off his coat, is the familiar face of one park ranger, Steve Rogers. He’d been doing a pretty good job avoiding him, so he’s a little disappointed in himself.

Tony holds his hand up, stopping the blond as he approaches quickly, and shakes his head.

“What are you doing here? Who let you in?”

Steve huffs, he’s losing his patience with this man, and he’s running out of time.

“You think this is a joke, don’t you?” Steve grabs Tony’s upper arm and pulls him toward a corner where they can speak in private. There are already too many people in the lobby watching them, ears straining.

Tony opens his mouth to object to the hand around his arm, to call for security, to make a scene, but he doesn’t make a sound. Instead he follows after Steve, and for the short moment that his arm is gripped, Tony’s aches are relieved and the throbbing in his head eases. But it’s over just as quick, and Tony leans toward Steve, swallowing down a whimper at the loss of contact.

Steve’s talking, through gritted teeth, like he too is struggling with the loss. “I have been trying to get a hold of you for over two weeks. The full moon is next week, Tony.”

Tony frowns at that, “please don’t tell me you’re still on that.”

“Why the hell else would I still be so desperate to talk to someone as ignorant as you?” Steve hisses.

It takes everything in Tony’s power not to shove Steve right against the wall behind him. Ignorant? Who the hell does this guy think he is?

“Tony, listen to me,” Steve’s fists are clenched at his sides. “I know. I know it sounds crazy, I know you think I’m completely insane, but even you have to admit there are things happening to you that you can’t explain. Tell me right now, tell me you don’t feel anything at all. Tell me this,” Steve presses his hand to Tony’s chest, just a soft assuring pressure, Steve's there, it's okay, relax, “tell me this doesn’t make it better, that it doesn’t soothe all those unexplained feelings, anxieties. Tell me you feel nothing at all and I’ll never bother you again.”

Tony's soothed by the touch, like all along that’s all he'd needed, a hand against his chest. Steve’s hand.

“I can help you. The senses, the anger, I can help you understand it, control it.” Steve's gripping the front of Tony’s shirt now, desperate and pleading.

No. Tony hates this. This doesn’t make sense. Tony, the scientist, the engineer, the physicist always looking for an explanation, for the logic behind things, this doesn’t make sense to him. His life isn’t a crappy science fiction movie, he's the head of a multi-billion dollar technology company, not a newly turned…whatever. Tony can’t even say it in his mind, it's too absurd.

“Get out of my lobby before I call security,” Tony says, pushing Steve’s hand off of his chest, and immediately regretting it. He shows no signs of regret though, he stands his ground.

Steve’s head drops forward as he lets out a soft sigh like he'd expected nothing more than this from Tony.

“You may not believe me now, but you’d better start paying attention to the signs. It’s not going to matter what you believe in a week when that full moon rises and a part of you comes out that you can’t control.”

“Yeah,” Tony scoffs, “I’ll call you when I grow a tail, how’s that sound?” Because sarcasm and humor are Tony’s only defenses when it comes to things like this.

Steve gives Tony a disappointed look before he turns and leaves the lobby.

Tony clutches his chest, right where Steve’s hand had been, unable to admit even to himself how that look hurts him more than it hurt Steve.

“You alright, boss?”

Tony looks away from the door to Happy who's making his way over.

“I saw you talking to that guy. Who was he?”

“No one, he won’t be a problem anymore, Happy. Thanks.”

“Any time,” Happy nods and continues his patrol of the building.

Tony continues his own journey to his office where, behind closed doors, he can tuck his non-existent tail between his legs, and lick his metaphorical wounds in private.

~

Steve doesn’t show his face at the office anymore, and that’s probably for the best considering Tony had been two seconds away from calling the police the last time he came. He wouldn’t have actually called them, but the threat was still there.

The fact remains, the full moon is drawing closer and despite Tony’s claims of not believing a thing Steve had said, he’s getting anxious. No, he’s getting downright panicked.

When Charlie, the mail girl, comes up with a stack of letters and a cup of coffee for Tony on Monday morning, Tony snaps at her. There's not enough sugar in the coffee, and why did LeAnne have to take her vacation this week? Why didn’t she properly train this mail-deliverer how to make a good cup of coffee?

He’s well aware of his temper growing worse by the day. His hands shake, and his legs bounce and he can’t sit still for longer than twenty minutes without having to get up and jog around his office. It’s bothersome, but no one dares mention anything.

Tony gets two pages into a google search about werewolves before calling bullshit and slamming the laptop shut. He can’t believe he’d even go so far as to search it.

Sleep is even harder to achieve, the moon growing fuller with every night that passes. He stares from his bed, floor to ceiling windows allowing for maximum amount of light to shine in, reminding Tony of his impending fate, until finally he grows angry, gets up and yanks the drapes shut.

In the morning, after five hours of restless tossing and turning, Tony pulls himself out of bed and heads into his morning routine. There’s something in the back of his mind trying to remind him of something, today is important for some reason or another, but Tony can’t possibly be bothered with scheduling when he hasn’t had sleep, and he’s had even less coffee.

With coffee in his system, it’s easier to get to work. A close shave of his scruff, the hair on his cheeks grew in quite full overnight, but it's nothing his electric razor can’t handle. With a trim of his goatee, and his teeth brushed Tony steps into the shower to rinse off that bad night he’d had.

As Tony scrubs soap into his hair, he absently realizes what his brain had been ignoring all morning. Tonight is the full moon. Tony curses himself for even thinking about something so ridiculous and rinses his hair off.

As Tony steps out of the shower, the mirrors are all fogged up. He grabs a towel and heads back into his room to pick his outfit for the day, only returning to the bathroom twenty minutes later to style his hair.

“What the fuck?” Tony frowns as he viciously paws away the remaining fog on the mirror as if that would erase what's on his face.

Tony leans in, examining his cheeks. Right where he’d just shaved, not even an hour ago, Tony’s facial hair had grown back thick, as if he hadn’t shaved in days.

“No.” Tony presses his hands to the beard on his face and shakes his head looking over himself in horror. “No no no, this is…this is too much. This is absolutely…this is impossible!” Tony shouts, his hands slamming down against the countertop in front of him. He can feel the marble crack under the weight of his palms, fingers gripping, knuckles white.

“What the hell is happening to me?!” He cries, to no one in particular, head hung low, eyes shut as he concentrates on his breathing.

A shaking hand reaches toward his razor, his other hand still gripping the shattered countertop, he’s sure his hand should be bleeding but he doesn’t feel anything.

“Okay. Okay Tony, get a grip,” he exhales and turns the razor on. “Maybe you just...missed a spot?” Tony laughs at that and shakes his head, looking back in the mirror. “No, even I’m not dumb enough to believe that one.”

Tony jumps back when he makes eye contact with his reflection. His once very normal, brown eyes are now a bright and glowing golden. He drops the razor, nearly catching his foot when it lands on the floor, buzzing.

“Oh God,” Tony pulls the plug from the wall, the razor’s buzzing dying off before he hurries out of the bathroom, unable to stand the sight of himself anymore.

This doesn’t make sense, none of it makes any sense, and he’s having a full blown attack now. He falls to his knees just in front of the bed and gasps, his lungs trying to take in more oxygen than he needs, but still never quite getting enough. The room around him is dimming, and then brightening. It feels like he’s spinning so he leans forward, head between his knees.

Steve was right, he was right all along, and Tony, wow Tony owes that man the biggest apology. There is no other explanation. There is absolutely no logic to any of this. Unless he's just going absolutely insane, but Tony refuses to think that, he has too much to lose to plead insanity.

“Breathe,” Tony whispers to himself, his hands in clenched fists on either side of his head. He buries his face into the carpet and shuts his eyes. “Breathe…” he repeats, and he thinks about Steve.

It takes a moment, a very long moment, but he’s able to calm himself down, and he’ll have to remember this tactic for the next time. Steve and his smile, so friendly and sincere. Steve with his wildly unrealistic claims of being a werewolf, and the way he made the noise in Tony’s head stop with a single grip of his shoulder.

Tony sits up slowly, the blood rushing from his head and he crawls his way across the room to his dresser where he knows he left his phone

“I can help you. Please call me.” Tony recalls the note he’d thrown as he searches his contacts and punches Steve’s name.

~

Steve knows it's Tony before the phone even starts ringing. Still he lets it go once or twice before he answers. This is the man who had spent the last month blowing Steve off, after all.

“Hello?” Steve says, feigning nonchalance.

“Steve…” Tony’s tony was desperate, a little panicked, and worst of all broken. Steve’s entire façade drops to the floor at that sound

“I’m here, Tony.”

“I-I’m sorry. I…need you.”

And that’s all Steve needs to hear before he’s pulling on pants, one leg at a time. Switching sides to better cradle the phone with his shoulder, Steve steps into his shoes, and replies “I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon. It’s going to be okay, just relax.”

Every instinct in Steve’s body is screaming 'run to him, screw clothing, Tony needs you'. But he doesn’t think he could use that as an excuse as to why he's running around the city barefoot and naked.

“So stupid…” Tony mutters into the receiver, “was so so stupid, I should’ve listened…”  
Steve’s heart stutters with every insult Tony gives himself, and shakes his head even though Tony can’t see the gesture.

“No, no…Tony, no.” And although Steve’s never turned anyone before the bond, what he feels with Tony isn’t anything like his mother had described it to be. In fact it feels a lot like another kind of bond his mother had told him about.

“Steve…” Tony whimpers.

“I’m coming right now. I’ll be there very soon.”

Hanging up is one of the hardest things Steve has had to do recently, but Tony has proved to be one of the more difficult things in Steve’s life anyway. For some reason Steve can’t find it in him to stay upset with him.

 

Back at the Tower, Tony hangs up the phone and curses himself out for being so dramatic. He can’t help it, he needs Steve. He can’t explain the sudden dependency either. It's as if the moment he decided to accept Steve’s assistance something in his mind clicked into place, a piece that was previously missing.

Steve didn’t lie; he gets there within the hour, which is quick considering the distance. JARVIS greets him in the lobby, and grants him access as allowed by Tony. Steve makes his way up to the penthouse floor as instructed by the AI.

When the doors open he's immediately hit with the scent of distress.

“Tony!” Steve shouts, following the trail to Tony’s bedroom, and then into the adjoining bathroom.

“I don’t understand!” Tony cries out in frustration. The electric razor is back in his hands as he glares at his patchy beard in the mirror. It's already beginning to grow back for the third time that day.

Tony doesn’t even notice Steve behind him as he throws the razor down into the sink. It gives one last buzz before dying off, Tony’s anger breaking the machine. It’s fine, he’ll buy a new one.

Steve relaxes when he finds no danger threatening his…Tony, threatening Tony.

“Hey,” Steve tries again to grab the other’s attention.

Tony jumps at the sound, turning to face Steve. He can feel the broken counter pressing into his back, but he has more important issues to deal with at the moment.

“You!” Tony sneers, a total one-eighty from his tone on the phone. Steve guesses he’s had some time to mull over his acceptance.

Steve holds his hands up in surrender, showing Tony he’s not a threat, calmly requesting he stand down. “Tony, I’m here to help.”

“Help?” Tony laughs out in disbelief. “You know what would’ve really helped?” He takes a step forward, Steve takes one back. “You not turning me into a God damned werewolf!”

Tony growls viciously as he lunges forward. Steve’s expecting the attack, and he catches Tony by the wrists, both of them tumbling backward onto the plush bedroom carpet. Tony snarls, snapping newly formed fangs at Steve’s throat.

Lucky for Steve, Tony’s just a pup in comparison to his thirty years of experience, so it’s easy enough to flip over, pinning the other man to the floor with hips and hands.

Tony’s too far gone for reasoning, his eyes a bright glowing golden. He struggles beneath Steve, his claws extended as he desperately tries to swipe at Steve’s hands, pinning down his wrists. Steve’s been there before, being a teenage werewolf wasn’t as glamorous as Hollywood insisted, and too many times he’d found himself in Tony’s position, which is great because that just means Steve knows exactly how to handle this.

“Tony!” Steve roars, an inhuman sound resonating throughout the tower, shaking its the very foundations. It works, and Tony comes back to himself, eyes fading back to brown, his fangs and claws retracting.

“Steve…” the genius pants, confused. He’s stopped struggling now, allowing Steve to simply rest on top of him, still straddling his waist.

“I’m here,” Steve assures as he leans down, without a second thought and kisses the man beneath him.

For a moment, Tony kisses back and it’s a long moment, and it’s the best moment Tony’s had all month. But it’s over in a flash, Steve pulling back with a horrified expression painting his features, and Tony’s hands on Steve’s shoulders holding him still.

“Oh God, I’m sorry! I don’t know why I did that.” Steve shakes his head quickly and knocks Tony’s hands away easily.

“I’m still pissed at you,” Tony says, picking himself up off the floor.

For a moment, Steve gives Tony a look of disbelief, he doesn’t even seem fazed by the kiss, and then it dawns on him. Maybe he's not the only one feeling this strange pull. Maybe the kiss didn’t feel wrong, or forced, or bad, because it wasn’t supposed to.

“Yeah,” Steve nods, “yeah I get that. I accept that. I fucked up, Tony.” Steve pushes all thoughts of kissing to the backburner of his mind. “I understand if you never want to speak to me again after tonight, but I’m really glad you’ve at least decided to accept my help. This is going to make things much easier for you.”

“For some reason I really doubt that…” Tony stretches a little and pads out of his bedroom toward the bar he had set up in the lounge area.

“Well,” Steve starts, following Tony out. He frowns, but says nothing as Tony circles behind the bar and begins pouring himself a drink. “Maybe if you hadn’t spent the last month vigorously avoiding me I wouldn’t have to cram all of this information into you in less than one day.”

Tony scoffs and closes the lid on the bottle, “well maybe if you hadn’t bitten me a month ag-“ Steve cuts him off with an angry bark of his name, Tony does not flinch at the sound of Steve’s voice, but he did shut up abruptly, his entire focus on Steve.

“Look, I said I was sorry for that. I can’t go back and change that night. I- My wolf made a mistake.” To be fair, Tony had thrown a rock at the animal, but that's not important now. “So now we have to live with our mistakes, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever…” Tony mutters, the glass already to his lips.

“And you might as well give that up now, alcohol isn’t going to do much for you anymore.”

“Excuse me?” Tony deadpans, setting the glass down rather roughly on the bar top.

“Okay look, you’re a werewolf now. Haven’t you ever seen a werewolf movie?”

“Pepper brought me to see one of those Twilight movies one time…”

Steve physically flinches at the mention of that film. “Oh God, no.” he shakes his head quickly. “No, no, an actual werewolf movie, American Werewolf In London? The Wolfman?”

“Uh, I don’t know if you’ve realized this, but I’m the CEO of a multi-billion dollar technology, I don’t exactly have the time for science fiction movies.”

“So what does that mean?”

“It means I don’t have time to keep up with Hollywood’s latest and greatest…” Tony takes another pull from his glass and sighs.

“You need to relax, it’s only going to be worse for you if you don’t.” Steve warns, watching Tony carefully.

“Oh really? And what do you know? You’ve probably been doing this your whole life.” Tony accuses.

“Well you’re right on that front, I was born a werewolf, however I know a lot more than you’d think. I can feel what you’re feeling,” Steve explains calmly.

“Excuse me?” Tony eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Okay, listen. I’m your alpha, Tony, I’m the one who turned you…” Steve gives Tony a look, as if waiting for Tony to put two and two together.

“Get to the point, Lassie. I’m feeling my blood pressure begin to rise again.”

With a palm to his face, Steve continues, “we have a certain bond now. Tell me, how have you felt this past month?”

“Oh just fit as a fiddle,” Tony rolls his eyes, “especially with the super senses.”

“Tony…” Steve warns, patience running thin. “I mean health wise. You’ve been feeling off, correct? That feeling you get just before you’re sick, achy like you never want to be touched, but want to be held all at once, your head in a constant fog of confusion and dizziness?”

“You’ve been reading my diary, huh?” Tony snarks, but the truth is, he doesn’t like Steve knowing all of this without his consent.

“I feel it too, Tony. You're constantly pulling away, avoiding me, it’s straining our bond. It’s not natural for either of us.”

“So you’re telling me this is my fault?”

“You’re a new wolf, you need an alpha to show you the ropes. That’s me, I’m your alpha.”

“Okay,” Tony shakes his head walking out from behind the bar. “Let’s get something straight, Fido, I don’t need anyone, least of all you.”

And that's about all Steve can take. Tony had been nothing but aggravating and argumentative since he stepped foot into the house, and even Steve, with his saint-like patience, can only take so much.

“Tony,” The werewolf says, standing up from his place on the couch, and any hint of patience Steve might have had is gone as he stands in front of Tony and shouts “sit!”

Startled, Tony jumps at the sudden command, but finds himself following through without question. Once seated on a barstool, Tony growls. Before he can say anything, Steve’s approaching him.

“Don’t say anything, okay? Your time to speak is over.” Steve hates being this harsh, but he has no other choice, Tony has given him nothing but grief. “You’re so frustrating, you don’t even realize what’s to come.

“I haven’t lied to you yet, have I? And still you don’t trust me at all. Fine, I can live with that. I can’t force your trust, but you do need to listen to me, because that stunt in the bathroom? That’s just the beginning, and it’s nothing compared to what you’re going to experience in, oh,” Steve checks his watch, “five hours. That’s it, that’s all the time you have to stop denying that this is happening and just let go. Accept it, that’s all I ask. Come to terms with me, yourself, and your new wolf. Fighting him will only make him more agitated, and there is nothing worse than an agitated werewolf on the night of a full moon.”

Tony doesn’t speak, just listens, watching Steve pace as he speaks. He hates this, doesn’t understand why he can’t just get up and tell this guy to go fuck himself already. He sits obediently and listens as Steve drawls on.

“You’re putting the entire city in danger, you need to learn to control yourself before the moon. Tame the wolf inside of you, work together as one, and everything else will click into place.”  
He doesn’t like what Steve is saying, but he knows deep down the man is right. All this time Tony had spent ignoring the beast inside him, trying to push Steve away and deny that anything was happening, but it's not going away. It's time to accept that.

After a long moment, the two men staring each other down, Tony finally speaks.

“Okay,” he says, defeated.

“Okay?” Steve asks, unsure.

Tony nods.

“Okay.” Steve nods as well, “and I’m sorry.”

Tony raises an eyebrow.

“It’s not fair to you for me to use my alpha abilities on you like that. I promise to never do it again.”

Tony scoffs, standing up finally and stretching out. He turns back to the bar top to down the rest of the liquid in the glass. He knows it won’t do anything for him, but it still tastes pretty great. “If you think you won’t need to use those little tricks on me again, then you clearly don’t know me very well.”

A small smile appears on Steve’s face, the taller man shaking his head.

“Alright, enough talk.” Tony says with a determined look, “tell me everything I need to know.”

~

Sometime before sunset, after Steve had answered every question Tony threw at him, and some that he didn’t, a pizza is ordered. Well, two pizzas, an order of hot wings, some breadsticks, and a two-liter of cola. Werewolves eat quite a lot, as Tony would come to find, and Steve had insisted that Tony would need his strength that night.

Laying back against Tony’s expensive leather sofa, Steve lets out a belch of satisfaction. Tony laughs, glancing out the open windows, like he had been all day.

“Sun’s going down,” he mentions, his leg bouncing up and down, restlessly.

Steve sighs, and he feels for Tony, really he does, but he’s done all he can, and now it’s up to Tony to pull through.

“Ready?” Steve asks, resisting the urge to reach out and still Tony’s leg, even if he knows the contact would soothe Tony enough to calm him down.

“As I’ll ever be,” the genius shrugs.

Steve had spent the entire day explaining everything he could to Tony, but he was born a wolf, and he’d never bitten anyone before, so his advice was limited to his own experiences.

As it were, Steve was born a werewolf, and that was thanks to his mother. His father was a human who fell in love with her despite her flaws. However, on his fourteenth birthday Steve got a lot more than a cake, and when his teeth extended to fangs, his father couldn’t take it and left.

His mother passed away several years later, of natural causes, werewolves weren’t as invincible as Hollywood made them seem, but before she did, she passed on her alpha status to Steve. She told her son not to take advantage of the power she’d given him, not to use it to harm, and he’d done just as she asked without fail, up until a hiker went and got himself a sprained ankle in Steve’s territory one full moon night.

Steve had explained how most newly turned werewolves don’t make it past their first full moon without an alpha’s guidance. Either the pain of the transformation would be too much for their fragile human state, or the hunters would get them. But some, some would turn on their first full moon taking their wolf’s shape, and never shift back, they’d take off into the wild, never to be heard of again.

Lucky for Tony, his alpha has abandonment issues, and enough guilt to insist on looking after his stubborn beta. Of course, there's also that underlying bond that Steve had refused to mention.  
And lucky for Steve to have such a curious and observational beta, that as he turns toward him, looking away from the sun falling behind the New York City skyline he asks, “so what's with that kiss?”

Steve says nothing, and sinks further down into the couch, his face dark red as he avoids Tony’s gaze.

“Oh?” Tony smirks and turns to properly face Steve now.

“Yeah,” Steve chokes out, “oh.”

“You definitely verified that it happened,” Tony nods, “I was beginning to think it was something I made up in my aggressive state.”

“Hallucinations aren’t generally a symptom of turning into a werewolf…” Steve mutters as he sits up, trying to regain some semblance of dignity.

“Well it wouldn’t be the first time,” Tony shrugs.

“What do you mean?”

“What’s this? The student surpassing the teacher?” Tony teases, but Steve doesn’t bite. Instead the blond is left looking concerned. “I mean the dreams, they feel pretty vivid, almost like they’re real.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, though he knows exactly which dreams Tony is referring to. He’s experienced them just the same. Something on Steve’s face gives him away, and he watches as realization hits the other like a freight train.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, don’t you.” Tony says, standing. “Steve, you’ve been having dreams, sex dreams about me?”

It takes Steve a moment, but he nods just the same and licks his lips. But the dreams had not been just sex dreams, they were so much more than that. Tony’s about to ask what it means. Why would two people who had barely spent any time together before today, why would they be having similar, sexual dreams about one another. He’s about to, but it’s dark outside now, and in the east, Tony can see the full moon creeping up from beyond the bay.

The words die in his throat as a loud cracking sound fills the room. Tony’s eyes widen and he calls out a loud yelp of agony as he drops to his knees in the middle of the floor.

“Steve!” Tony calls out in distress, and Steve is at his side in an instant.

“I’m here, Tony, don’t fight it.”

Steve stands by helplessly as Tony’s body jolts and twitches, bones shifting beneath his skin, realigning into the shape of the animal he’s to become. Tony cries out again as fur sprouts up in all directions, his clothing ripping under his contorting body, the shape changing entirely. Hands become paws, hair becomes fur, his mouth and nose extending until he takes the shape of one seriously pissed off wolf.

Tony’s fur is jet black, a light dusting of grey coats the tips of his ears, and paws. His teeth are barred, fur standing on edge as he crouches, growling at Steve, ready to strike. Tony isn’t in his right mind, he knows the wolf has full control, the moon forcing Tony into this mindless animal. Steve had known it would happen, he'd just hoped Tony would be strong enough to hold on to that humanity.

As Tony lunged forward, Steve caught the large animal, falling back to the ground much like they had done earlier in the day. Except this time, Tony wasn’t there to snap out of it, it was just Steve, and Tony’s wolf.

Steve wraps his hand around the wolf’s muzzle holding his mouth shut, his other hand keeps the wolf tight against his body.

“Tony!” Steve shouts, but not even his alpha status would help on a full moon. “Tony, I know you’re in there, I know you can hear me. This wolf, this animal, don’t let it control you.”

Steve grunts as his grip on Tony’s mouth slips and the wolf turns his head to immediately chomp down on Steve’s shoulder. The blond groans in pain, eyes lighting up a bright blue in response, but he resists the shift, instead he shoves Tony off of him and stands quickly.

Tony makes a break for the open door, wanting to be free of this building’s confines, wanting to run under the moon’s light. Steve grabs the wolf up as he darts past and throws him toward the couch.

Sharp nails rip the expensive leather to shreds, and Steve’s on top of Tony in an instant holding him down against the couch. He can’t let Tony free. If he gets out, any civilian within a ten mile radius will be in danger. Tony would put himself in danger, Steve can’t let anything happen to Tony. He's not sure he could live without Tony, now that he’s met him. His mate.

“I should have told you,” Steve speaks through gritted teeth. Tony isn’t exactly sitting still for the conversation, but Steve knows he can hear his every word. Steve can feel every emotion Tony is, they’re bonded that way, even if they’re not truly mates.

“I know you’re afraid, Tony, but please listen to me.” Steve hisses as Tony slashes a claw across Steve’s chest, tearing his shirt and ripping across his chest. Blood drips onto the sofa, but the wounds heal quickly enough, and Steve goes on.

The wolf tilts his head back and lets out a fierce, helpless howl, one that breaks Steve’s heart and he grips Tony tightly and buries his face into the fur on Tony’s back. The anxiety Steve is feeling for Tony is a hundred times worse for the wolf himself, he’s practically vibrating under Steve’s hold, desperate for escape.

“I should have told you, it was unfair not to. This bond doesn’t just affect me, it’s both of us. I guess I was thinking about it in terms of two people meeting for the first time.”

The wolf whimpers, but the more Steve speaks, the calmer Tony seems to become.  
“I’ll just say it. Tony, we’re mates, life mates, soul mates, whatever you want to call it. You’re mine, and I’m yours. It doesn’t seem likely, I know. The way we met was such an act of fate, it doesn’t seem real. The way we’ve spent the past month was so horrible.”

Tony settles down on the couch now, no longer pulling away from Steve with every move. Instead he seems content to listen to Steve, his ears pulled back.

“You feel it too, I know you do. The aches, the sleepless nights, the hallucinations, that’s our bond, it’s more than alpha and beta, it’s me and you. It’s Tony and Steve. So I need you to pull through this for me now. Latch on to this bond we’ve got and turn for me, I know you can. Make peace with this animal, he’s with you for the long haul, concentrate.”

Tony whimpers again, slouching as Steve pleads for him to relax, to shift back.

“If you just concentrate it won’t be nearly as painful as that was, don’t fight it and it won’t hurt.”

There's a long moment, with Steve still awkwardly sprawled on top of the animal, where it seems as though there's a power battle going on behind the wolf’s eyes. Then sudden relief, the tense body of the wolf relaxes and he begins to shift back into the shape of a man. Bones crack back into place, fingers grows where paws once were, and his eyes now back to dull brown.

Tony takes a moment, a little disoriented from the shift, but Steve had been right, it was less painful this time around. He couldn’t explain the agreement he’d made, but the wolf had released the reins easy enough. And that means more time for Tony to reach forward with his very human hands, fingers something he would never take for granted again, and he pulls Steve toward him pressing their mouths hard against one another.

Steve makes a surprised sound, still hovering, now straddling Tony’s naked waist and he pulls back suddenly. Confused eyes search Tony’s for some sort of explanation.

“You should have just said something,” Tony pants, licking his lips to chase the taste of Steve’s own. “It would have saved us so much time.”

And Steve gets it. Tony’s sudden rush of lust, it’s a mutual affection. Tony feels the bond, and his every instinct is to make it official, and Steve’s is the same. The full moon means more to them than just a force transformation, it’s the time their kind feels the most alive.

Steve intends to show Tony the very many advantages the of the full moon’s power.

The blond surges forward then, closing the gap between their mouths. Knowing now that the feelings are returned is the best thing about this whole mess, and Steve can tell Tony is a hundred and ten percent into this if the erection pressed against his thigh is anything to go by.

Tony cats hips forward and he’s whining softly with head pressed back, throat exposed to Steve. his wolfish tendencies are still there despite his wolf’s disappearance. Steve is proud, Tony's showing signs of working with his wolf, rather than against him. Giving into animalistic desires, but still remaining control of himself, that had always been the key.

Steve gives Tony what he wants, dipping his hips down and grinding against the other, his jeans causing a beautiful friction against Tony’s skin. He's already sweaty, skin buzzing from the transformation.

“Steve,” Tony gasps as Steve’s mouth works its way down Tony’s jaw to his exposed throat.

“I’ll have you here and now, if you let me,” Steve mutters into Tony’s skin. He can’t get enough of the scent, all hot arousal, the scent of mate unraveling a warmth in Steve’s stomach he’d never known. He feels safe, protective, at home, loved.

Tony moans, and he feels the same, a mutual feeling bouncing between the two of them, neither knowing where it starts or where it ends. It doesn’t matter much as Steve’s wrapping Tony’s legs around his waist and pulling him further down on the couch.

The genius grins up at Steve in a way that makes Steve’s heart flutter, and his hands move quicker to unbutton his pants. He doesn’t bother to pull them down all the way, just enough to pull out his own erection, stroking himself to full hardness.

It’s a little absurd to assume there would be lube in the living room, so Steve pulls Tony’s legs from around his waist and presses them back until they’re flush against Tony’s chest, exposing Tony even more to Steve.

The blond leans down, pressing his nose against the inside of Tony’s thigh and breathing him in. It takes only a moment before Steve is pressing his tongue flat against Tony’s entrance, the genius whimpering and whining above him. Steve doesn’t take his time, rushes to get inside Tony. His tongue darting in and out in a quick and effective way.

“There’s more where that came from,” Steve mouths against his hole before nipping at his thigh and pulling back.

“Take me,” Tony moans, his eyes are wide as saucers as he looks up at Steve.

Steve doesn’t need much more encouragement than that, and he pulls Tony’s legs up and over his shoulders, lips pressing to the ankle that received the bite that started it all, before sliding in.

He doesn’t know who to thank for bringing them together. The odd chance of Tony taking a jog on the full moon, spraining his ankle, provoking Steve’s wolf. The odd chance of Tony being his mate. Steve doesn’t believe much in fate or destiny, but this was surely meant to be.

Tony's blissed out on the feeling. He’d had sex before, and a lot of it, but this is a whole different level. There's all of these feelings, these emotions that aren’t Tony’s. It's as if his heart is a shared space, Steve nuzzling his way in, and Tony's more than happy to let him.

There's a howl, a loud and legitimate howl, and Tony doesn’t realize it’s coming from himself until he opens his eyes and sees the look of love on Steve’s face. The man thrusts into him rhythmically, his hands leaving fast fading bruises on Tony’s hips as he howls along with him.

The adrenaline from the change exhausted Tony, so one firm tug from Steve has him spilling all over himself with a cry of Steve’s name. Clenching around the other has Steve coming at the same time, filling Tony and officiating their bond.

Steve leans forward, pretzeling Tony in half to catch the other man’s mouth with his own. It’s the most important kiss of either man’s life, but it’s also the most simple.

When Steve slips out from inside Tony, it’s a disappointing feeling for both of them. Tony wraps his arms around Steve, pulling him close as he relaxes his legs on either side of the other man’s hips. The kiss is deeper now, more sensual with the rush of lust at bay.

They explore each other’s mouths for a while, hands roaming over every scar and mark on the other’s skin. And when they’re satisfied with that, Steve rolls onto his side, Tony never letting him get too far, and they just stare. It would be strange for anyone else, the amount of time spent just looking at one another, no words exchanged, but for Steve and Tony, it's all they need in the world.

Steve’s the one who finally breaks the silence, after almost two hours of exploration.

“Ready for another round?” Steve asks, because what else is there to say?

Tony picks his head up, glances at the clock on the nightstand beyond Steve’s head. It’s still early, barely even midnight. Eyes darting back to Steve’s, they glow a bright yellow, and he’s on top of Steve, straddling the other’s hips and growling.

“Yeah, I think I can go another round.” Tony grins, fangs extending, “or four.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for reading. This was a long and painful road but I feel really proud of the writing I've accomplished here! I wanna thank Morphia my beta, encourager, hand holder etc...for being amazing throughout the entire thing. And most importantly I wanna thank all of you so much for reading. Leave a comment letting me know what you think thanks again for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> So I decided to just go ahead and post this in two parts. I can't seem to get motivated to write the second part, but I know if I post this part it'll force me to finish it. Let me know what you guys think! Props to Morphia-Writes for listening to me whine and for betaing this bad boy. Seriously, one of the longest things I've written so far, and it's only half finished.


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